Angles going astray
by Hell789abdv
Summary: Brendan comes up with an escape plan, he covers all angles but one, he doesn't let Ste know, with potentially deadly results.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own nothing.

Summary: Brendan comes up with an escape plan, he covers all angles but one with potentially deadly results.

Rating: M for later chapters.

Warnings: This chapter is pretty / very miserable. Swearing. Total and utter disregard for actual procedure.

Pairings: Ste/Brendan; Danny/John-Paul

Going to have a go at a short story a few chapters (or at least that is the intention)

Ste POV

* * *

He can't believe he's here. He only did it so Danny would stop going on at him about it. Late Lunch with his Dad, he was fine with it was the irritated sitting next to his Dad he could really do without. John-Paul fucking McQueen. It makes his skin crawl.

He couldn't care less that his Dad's bi but why the fuck did he was to shack up with him of all people?

He tries to keep his head down. Tries so hard to be civil that he's nearly biting his own tongue off. Not that John-Paul's offering much in the way of conversation.

"How's the deli going?" Danny asks smiling encouragement.

"The same as it was yesterday when you asked." He sighs taking another mouthful of his pint and wishing that the food would arrive and he can get the hell out of here.

"New promotion going well?"

"Alright."

"Your conversational skills are astounding." John-Paul snips.

"Aren't they just." He gives him a twisted smile that he hopes he can read as 'fuck you'.

"Another round?"

He raises his glass at John-Paul. If he didn't have to go back to work he'd down a bottle of vodka, then maybe, just maybe this would be bearable, he doubts it. Two bottles of vodka, possibly leading to passing out, yeah that would do it.

"I don't understand why you two can't get along?" Danny sighs.

"Because I hate him." He's not denying it.

"What's he ever done to you?"

"You want a list?" He's got one, at the top being a smug arrogant prick, then into the other reasons but the top on is the one that gets at him the most.

"Ste I know that's this is difficult but I really want you two to find some common ground."

"See that over there?" He points and Danny looks. "Pig flying."

Danny shakes his head at him. He knows he's disappointing him and he doesn't want to but he can't do it. He will not be civil to John-Paul when all he does is look down his nose at him.

He finishes the last of his pint just as John-Paul puts another down in front of him. At least he's got some uses.

"Have you decided on a play yet?" John-Paul asks Danny and he tunes them out. If he wanted to hear about school he'd listen to the sixth formers that stand in the deli for an hour looking at the menu then order a muffin.

"Ste!"

The bottom drops out of his stomach and he turns on his seat.

"Declan?" He frowns at him. He hasn't seen him in, god it must have been three years at least, since he'd last been in the village staying with Brendan.

"What are you doing here?"

"I've been trying to ring you. Aunty Cheryl didn't know where you were living but she said you were still in the village." Declan rushes through what he's saying so fast it takes him a few seconds to catch up. "It's about my Da."

"Who's this?" Danny asks looking confused.

"I think its Brendan's son." John-Paul says.

"Brendan? Who's Brendan?"

He shakes their words off.

"Ste, I tried to…"

"What's happened? What's wrong?"

"We don't know how it happened, there was nothing… He was in the hospital wing a few days…"

He closes his eyes and wishes Declan away.

"I was coming to see him."

"He lets you visit?" Of course he lets Declan visit. Properly Cheryl as well. Not him. He tried once for a visitors order and it was rejected that was enough to tell him that Brendan was sticking to his, that's it, it's over.

"He's dead Ste."

Time freezes, he swears a bomb could go off right next to him and he wouldn't even feel it, wouldn't be moved by it. He stops breathing. He can hear his heart pounding in his ears… Louder and louder until there's black in his vision.

He inhales sharply nearly chokes on it, head already shaking. He can't be dead. He's can't be. There's no way.

"Ste?"

He pushes away from the hands that have someway found themselves attached to his body. He walks outside onto the jetty and lets himself hang over the rail, trying to catch his breath trying to control himself.

"Ste?" Danny. He can feel a hand on his back, rubbing little circles.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it to come out like that…" Declan sounds a bit panicked.

"It's alright mate, I don't think however you said it he'd take it well." John-Paul states.

He sags down onto the wood and lets his legs drop over the side holding onto the middle rail for something to cling on to.

"How?"

"We don't know. The doctors said there was natural causes."

"Natural causes? He's barely thirty-eight. No. They're wrong."

"Ste." Danny sighs sitting next to him.

"I want to see him." He has to be sure.

"I'm going to the prison now." Declan states.

"I'll drive you." Danny states immediately.

"Ste, they might not let you in." He's not next of kin. Fucking shit.

"I have to see him." He has to. He can't not.

"We'll try okay?" Danny says.

No, it's not fucking ok. Nothing is ok.

He doesn't feel his feet as he walks to the car. Everything is numb except the anger that's coiled tight around him, the only thing keeping him on his feet…

He sits in the car while Danny drives, talks to Declan, he can't register what's being said… He sits in the car while Danny and Declan talk to a prison guard. He stays in the car as Danny tells him to. He can't move away. He reaches in his pocket and twirls the necklace around his fingertips. He's never prayed before, never had faith but he's prays that this is a sick joke and it's not happening…

"They've already taken the body to a forensics lab for post mortem. The guard says they might let you in."

Post mortem. It chokes his brain. Sticks there and won't move. Post mortem.

"I need a drink." He states.

"Now is not the time Ste." Danny states.

"Just. I need a drink." He can't do this. He can't do it. "Just pull over at a shop. I need it."

"Do what he says." Declan states. "You don't understand them."

It's a scabby little off license. He gets a litre of vodka, pays and necks as much of a mouthful as he can take as he steps onto the street.

"That's not going to do you any good you know?" Danny states opening the door so he can get back in the back seat.

He takes another massive mouthful before Danny insists he puts his seatbelt on and another as they pull away from the curb.

It's not helping. Anything.

He doesn't know how Danny talks him into the morgue only that it happens and he stands outside leaning against a wooden slated wall waiting for his life to end. Waiting to be let in to see him. The body.

Declan comes out eyes red rimmed and breathing hitched and he knows, he knows that walking into that room is the worst mistake because he goes in there and it's over. Everything.

"Do you want me to come in with you?"

He shakes his head. He doesn't trust his voice.

The morgue attendant holds the door.

He can feel his heart thumping in his chest as everything tightens around it.

There's a body. On a table. White linen. A little set of flower on a table to the side. Plain walls. He looks anywhere but right at it. Anywhere will do. Anything will do right now.

The morgue attendant looks at him, he can't not nod.

His knee's buckle and the attendant pulls a chair around and under him before his legs go out completely.

"Do you want a moment alone?"

He nods. Numb. Shaking. He hears the door go.

His heart is pumping so fast, his stomach feels like it in his throat. He's not ready for this. He'd never be ready. He feels his eyes burning. His hands shake in his lap.

He bites his lip so hard it's bleeding and stands. His entire body shaking. Stands and looks down and the end of all hope… He swallows through his consicted throat, wipes the tears that he didn't know had started falling.

He can't… He can't look properly, his eyes glazed with tears, he wipes at them furiously. He needs to see him properly.

He wants to talk to him. Make him wake up but he's so pale, lips tinged blue surrounded by his beard. He looks like he's sleeping except he doesn't. Peaceful maybe. Too still to be sleeping.

He makes himself take a couple of breaths. Tries to find some way of speaking but there's nothing to say. Nothing he can say to make this right. He chokes a little and reaches into his pocket, pulling out the necklace that he had given to him in the hospital, his necklace. The physical part of him that he carried around everyday in his pocket because it made him feel closer to him. He wipes at his face, his running nose, tries to wipe away the tears as he places it on the nip of his throat leans forward and kisses his cold forehead… He chokes, runs his fingers through his hair. Kisses him again. Bottom lip trembling, tears falling.

He wants to say goodbye but he can't, he wants to say I love you but what would it mean. He's dead. He's not there to hear it.

"Finished?"

He shakes his head. How can he ever be finished?

He tries to walk and his legs won't carry him. Danny rushes into the room and pushes him into his chest before he collapses to the floor. He grips his fingers into his jacket and Danny half walk half carries him out into the corridor, through the door and outside until he allowed to sink to the floor. He cries into Danny's jacket and clings on for dear life, choking on sobs.

It wasn't meant to end like this.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for reviewing.

Warning: Disturbing theme

* * *

It wasn't an easy decision… Although he doubted there was such a thing as too many.

He lines them up. Five by five in little rows. Then two by two. Then what does it matter? He swills them down with a bottle of vodka.

He wonders if it's done now? Cheryl said eleven o'clock, it's gone two. The coffin must be in the ground by now. He must be. It makes his stomach clench painfully at the thought of him all alone under the ground… He won't know. He's dead.

"You should be there." Everyone said the same thing to him.

He didn't want to go. He couldn't sit there, not in the presence of the coffin, couldn't look at it and know that he was all alone in there. Like he was all alone on the outside.

Danny tried but he didn't know.

John-Paul tried but he could fuck off.

Sinead tried but she cost him Doug.

Amy didn't try and he appreciated that.

He'd made it on the plane, made it to Cheryl's. Had his suit packed and everything but he'd woken up and knew he couldn't go.

Nate stopped Cheryl from arguing with him as he sat in their kitchen and shook his head when she said that the funeral car was coming and he had to get ready. Couldn't be late.

Nate had a wonderful collection of spirits in a cabinet. A full world view of just how to get as hammered as possible. But Vodka, Vodka was his old friend, reliable, comfortable… He should be drinking whiskey but he knows that Brendan would never agree with him using it for this. He has to respect that.

He gives a bitter laugh and downs another few, washing them down… He wonders how long it'll take? Hours properly. He knows there's better ways. But he had killed his mother and he knows this works. Hasn't got many of her medication left but he's pretty sure it's enough. He's younger, fitter than her but he weighed less than she did…

He feels bad about doing it here. He'd walked down to the little summer house soaked through with the rain and sat himself, what he needed down, returned to the house and picked his other poision. Nate didn't have cheap vodka, not the kind that tastes like perfume, bitter after taste that sparks that moment of doubt of whether it's a good idea to drink it straight. No Nate has the expensive, smooth, still has a kick but it goes down smoother, he's not sure that it's a good thing but it doesn't matter.

Brendan came from here. Ireland, beautiful Ireland it seemed right that he was buried here. That he be buried where his family could go to his grave. He wasn't family. He wasn't the majority. It didn't hurt.

Nothing hurt.

Amy had brought down Leah and Lucas down to see him the day after. He'd hugged them, kissed them, wanted them to bring something back. They did. A crack in the dark, a small chink that had him shutting it as soon as it opened because that pain, that kind of heartbreak, he couldn't deal with it. Couldn't comprehend it.

He wasn't even angry, or he was so angry that he was beyond feeling it.

The complete desolation didn't register… The emptiness did.

He sighs and leans back against the wooden love seat, so beautiful craved out of a log. Such detailing. So smooth. He didn't want to sit on it. Not for this.

This is ugly. This is his choice and it's dreadful.

He can't do this without him. He told him that. He knows that and he still went and died.

Doesn't matter now.

He reaches up, fingers fumbling, he sure it's not all the drink, feels it in his movements, the sluggishness… He needs this done before he can't do it anymore.

It wasn't hard when he started, it's getting hard now, his body won't corporate but he makes it. He only needs it for this…

His vision is blurry and his fingers won't close on the bottle properly…

He's sure he's done enough…

"Jesus Mary and Joseph! Nate! Nate!" Cheryl.

"I'll phone an ambulance, keep him awake."

"Ste? Ste? Ste!"

It's all noise and whirl and a bother. They shouldn't bother. He wants to tell them that but he's too tired.

"You stay awake or so help me."

He would laugh at her. What she going to him that he hasn't already done.

"I bloody told him. I fucking said…"

"Not now… What's he taken?"

"A fucking pharmacy from the look of it. Ste!"

"They'll take too long." He's being picked up, it makes him feel sick. He can't be sick. If he's sick, it won't work… "Grab as many bottles as you can they'll need them."

He doesn't remember going to sleep but he defiantly remembers waking up.

He's never felt worse in his life. Weak. Drain. Like the life had been sucked out of him. But there's beeping proving he's alive and isn't that a sick joke.

"Well I didn't think our Deccy would go straight to him did I? Don't! It's not my fault! No. No. No! You come and it'll ruin everything. Stay there. They've pumped his stomach, they don't think there's any lasting damage but they don't know now… A few days I think… I know! Anything changes and I'll… You'll be the first… Right."

"Cheryl?" He croaks. They've taken a scrapper to his throat. Swallowing hurts, talking is like hot knives in his larynx.

"Thank god." She sighs. "What were you thinking?!" Her anger is sharp. "Of all the stupid things to do."

The door opens, a mere blur.

"Excuse me Miss but if you don't calm down we'll have to ask you to leave. He needs to rest." He can barely see the nurse.

"You're an idiot."

"Right enough. Leave now. You can come back with you've calmed down."

He watches the blur with blonde hair leave.

"Mr Hay?" The nurse asks offering him an ice chip. He winces as he shakes his head as light appears behind his eyes. "You're in hospital. We administered active charcoal when you arrived. That was a considerable number of pills you had in your stomach, flushed your system. You'll be feeling tired and sore but we can't give you anything for that right now. A doctor will be with you soon. Just rest."

He sighs and closes his eyes. There's nothing to see.

"I knew that I should have come with him." Danny. Danny? What's he doing here? Oh. Right.

"Honestly I don't think anyone would have stopped him." Cheryl.

"I don't understand. He was in a bad place after his Mum, Doug… I thought he was going to… He didn't then though so why now?"

"Our Bren and him… It was…"

Was. It stabs at him. They were… It was… Everything past… Everything over…

"Cosmic… I don't know. They were like two sides of the same coin. When Brendan went to prison, it broke both of them… Bren dying though…"

"I'm so sorry." Danny sighs. "I know this is a difficult time."

"They were so in love. They were amazing together, like nothing could stand in their way… Our Da…"

"It's alright you don't need to tell me. I know about your father being killed, John-Paul told me."

"Our Brendan wasn't a bad person… He did some bad things but he wasn't bad. He was loyal, kind, generous… He was a good man. And he loved Ste… The two of them, I always thought if they could make it anyone could."

He used to think that too.

"Ste hasn't talked about him."

"He wouldn't… You didn't see him… That kind of pain Mr Lomax, you bury it. You bury it or you can't live."

The door opens.

"Visiting hour's over."

"Yeah. Two seconds." Danny states. "I need to find a hotel."

"You're welcome to stay with me and Nate…"

"Thank you, no I want to stay in the city. Stay close."

"Okay. I'll be back in morning."

"You don't need to."

"Our Bren… He wouldn't have it. I have to make sure he's alright."

"Okay... See you tomorrow."

He feels a kiss against his forehead.

"You feel better love." She says. He hears her heels click on the hard tile floor.

He hears a sharp inhale from Danny.

"I promise you I'll be here… I wish you'd have talked to me… I… Oh Steven." He feels Danny squeeze his hand. "I'll be back tomorrow… You're not alone."

As the door shuts he shudders, thankful that they're gone, that they're not talking anymore… He opens his eyes and winces at the harsh light.

"Good evening Mr Hay." A tall man walks in.

He doesn't know whether to be relived or not that the blurred vision is gone.

"How are you feeling?" Dr. Rickman. It reads on his tag.

He shrugs.

"Yeah I bet. That was a large quantity of pills you took… Nothing to say about that?"

He shrugs. He hasn't got anything to say. They all know what he tried to do as well as he does.

"You're stable. You're vitals are improving all the time. I can't be sure but I don't think there's any lasting effects. You'll need to come back for a few tests, any hospital will do to make sure that none of your organs have been harmed... A few days and you'll be ready to go home… Before that though it's my duty to have a psychiatrist come down and talk with you."

"I don't need a shrink." He coughs, the dryness of his throat.

The doctor offers him an ice chip which he lets melt on his tongue.

"It's my understanding that you lost your partner recently and that it was his funeral. I understand that this is a terrible time for you Mr Hay but I really must insist you speak to someone before your release if only for half an hour…"

"I don't need a shrink." He repeats. "I don't want to talk to anyone."

"Mr Hay. I think it would be good for you."

"No."

"Alright I can't make you, the psychiatrist will visit you anyway tomorrow anyway… You've been lucky Mr Hay, if you weren't found when you were then you may not be speaking to me now."

He doesn't feel lucky. He feels like tumbled, scorched shit.

"I'll let you get more rest. The night nurse on duty will check on you throughout the night. Do you have any questions?"

He shakes his head.

"Rest Mr Hay."

There's nothing else to do… He sighs and lies further back into the pillows.

How'd he get it wrong… He killed his Mum… He knows how to do it…

"Amy is upset." Danny winces.

He bets she is. He bets that she shouted blue murder on the phone. He can imagine it. All of the bile she would scream about Brendan…

He nods a little.

"Ste I… You've never said anything about Brendan."

"Nothing to say." Especially now, now it's over.

Danny hands him an ice chip. He thought his throat would get better over night, shows what he knows.

"I know that he was…"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"You tried to kill yourself, from what they said if Cheryl and Nate had even been half an hour later you would have. You're my son. I don't want to lose you."

"I wasn't about you." He sighs. "You, being in my life… It wasn't about you. You've done so much for me, gave me so much..."

Danny sighs heavily.

"I don't understand you've been so strong, you've rebuilt your life…"

He squeezes his eyes shut. That was before. That was when he had hope…

"Morning love." Cheryl walks in. False smile. He clocks it, he could clock it a mile away. "How're you feeling?"

"Crap."

She pulls up a chair.

"What were you thinking?" She sighs.

"Cheryl." He sighs.

"No, love. Our Bren… You know he'd never want this for you… You know that he'd want you to…"

"He's dead Cheryl. I don't give a toss what he would have wanted. It doesn't matter now."

"I really don't think this is helping anyone." Danny says.

"Can I have a minuet with him alone?" Cheryl asks.

"I don't think that's a good idea. You're obviously upset and Ste needs to recover."

"Ste?" Cheryl looks to him.

"Go get something to eat, find me something I can eat. I'm not eating the stuff they serve in here." He's not eating anything at all but it's a decent excuse to get Danny out the room.

"I won't be long." Danny says as he leaves.

Cheryl quiet for a moment.

"Aren't you going to ream me out?" He sighs. She may as well get it over with.

"Look, there's something you need to know alright. I would have told you but it... For it to work everyone had to react properly and I was going to tell you as soon as, but I didn't know our Deccy was already over…" She talks a mile a minuet and he's struggling to keep up with her.

"What are you going on about?"

"I need to tell you something and I need you to be completely calm when I tell you. I need you to not react and I know that it's a lot of ask. I know but if you… You could ruin everything."

Everything is ruined.

"I mean it. Say nothing. No shouting. Nothing. Can you do that?"

It depends what she's going to say. But he wants to know now.

"Yeah."

"Promise me. Promise me on your kids lives it's massively important that you don't…"

"Will you shut up and tell me?"

"Brendan's not dead."

He looks at her. She's serious. No chance he's going to react because the shock has him ridged.

"I saw him." He chokes.

"I know love. I know. And I swear you were never meant to see him…"

"He's…"

"Say nothing. I mean it. Just listen to me… Are you listening?"

"Yeah." Brendan's not dead. It's on loop in his head. He's not dead.

"When his last appeal failed, thirty years Ste I couldn't let him… I kept on at him but he wouldn't have it… Then he came up with this plan… Fake his own death inside, Nate's got contacts and the money to make sure no one looked too closely. We found this drug that reduces everything to nearly nothing, paid off doctors, prison guards and the corner was pretty easy…"

"Where is he?" He doesn't care how they did it, he just needs to know.

"Croatia."

He frowns.

"Nate's mother has a house out there. Not that it really matters but that's where he is… I tried to ring you after, but Nate said that if the police caught even the slightest hint that he wasn't dead then we'd all get done… It's no short stretch either… You seemed okay, holding it together enough. I was going to tell you after the funeral but I come back and you're… I'm sorry Ste, I thought that you'd be okay until we were clear. As soon as the cremation was done…"

"I want to see…"

"Not yet. Soon but not yet."

"No. I need to…" He has to see him with his own eyes.

"Ste listen to me you've got no reason to go out there and we can't risk it. What if we get followed? We'd never be able to come home again. You'd never be able to see your kids…"

"But."

"I know its hard sweetheart but as soon as we can get you over there we will but until then you've just got to act normal, grieve… No one can know."

"Declan and Padraig?"

"Not yet. Not so soon."

"They…"

"It's agreed. Not yet. All of this has to be done without anyone getting even the slightest idea that it's not real…"

"What now?"

"Now you need to get better, Bren was ready to throw it all away, jump on the soonest plane when he heard what you'd done… It's for you Ste. He done all of this so that you can be together… If that's what you want."

* * *

Edit - As of July 2013 Croatia is a member of the European union therefore extradition is possible. I've taken it out if you're wondering where it's gone, I'm really fussy about stuff like that (spelling on the other hand I'm crap at so there really is no hope of me correcting all my mistakes and my grammar has always been hopeless), but I think the point still stands that they wouldn't be able to come home if they were found out.


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for reviewing I really appreciate it.

* * *

"If you wait a couple of weeks we can go with you." Danny states as he's putting the finishing touches to his case. Jeans, t-shirts, a couple of jumpers, shorts. Nate said there was a pool and they're not too far from a beach. He's meant to be going on holiday. He has to pack them even if he'd go in just the clothes he's wearing…

Five weeks he's waited, he's not waiting anymore. It's not like Danny can come with him anyway.

"I don't like the idea of you…"

"I just need to get away for a bit." He sighs. "With everything that's happened…" The shudder that rips through his skin is real. Just like the image of Brendan dead on that table. For all he knows it's fake now, he didn't then and it's stuck with him. "It'll be good for me."

"I don't think that you should be going with Cheryl." Danny states. "I know that she's your friend but being with her I'm worried it will bring up memories for you."

"It will but… I need this. Dad. I'll be fine." He knows that Danny's been worried about him. Couldn't miss it. All the trips the hospital for check-ups that he could have done alone but Danny had come with him. The unexpected visits, all the phone calls, all the dropping in on him at the deli when he'd gone back to work a week after getting home because he couldn't sit around anymore. Not with the frustration bubbling under his skin, at knowing but not being able to do a damn thing except wait.

He doesn't blame Danny for worrying... It actually nice. Someone worrying about him. Wanting to take care of him. Like his Mam should of all those years. Like an actual parent, or at least what he thought an actual parent was meant to be like.

He feels guilty some days for lying, only he's not really lying. He is in grieving.

Brendan may be alive but he'd grieving for everything else. For himself. For his Mam. For Doug. Because he might just get a happy ending, might just have a shining light at the top of the pit but he knows there's a cost even if no one's said anything about it.

Brendan can't come home. He's dead on all records. He's dead to everyone but the few that know he's not. If anyone finds out that he's not that's it. Life means life behind bars. There's no coming back for him.

He's desperate to talk to him, to hear his voice. He wonders if he's got it right in his head. He can still hear him, but maybe it's distorted over time, maybe it isn't as deep, isn't as gravelly, isn't as... He can't ring him though.

Nate told him that there was no reason for him to start ringing the house in Croatia, that they had to stick to the plan. One phone call a week from Nate or Cheryl to make it look like they were checking in with the place as they had apparently been doing for a year and a half since Nate's mother had given it to them. A flux of calls would look suspicious.

"It's not that I don't trust you Ste but this is mine and Cheryl's lives. I can't risk it." Which was his way of saying he didn't trust him.

He couldn't even say that Nate was wrong. He didn't know if he could be trusted either.

If he had the phone in his hand and Brendan on the line what would he say?

He's not even sure what he's going to do when he sees him. It can be when now. A few hours and he'll be on a flight. It's not if anymore…

"You're sure?"

He nods. He's sure about going. He's sure he has to see him if only to smack him in the face and call him every swear word he knows.

"Okay. But you phone me as soon as you get there."

"I am an adult you know?"

"You'll always be my little boy." Danny says. "Just like Lucas will always be yours and Leah will always be a princess." He steps forward and pulls him into a hug. "You ring me if it gets too much. Promise me."

"Promise."

"Have a good time."

He sits quietly until the taxi arrives, steps in and looks out the window with his stomach flipping.

He's shaking at the airport. The tension. The nerves. He can barely hand his ticket and passport over. The officials are looking at him strange and he wonders idly if they think he's got something to hide. Paranoia grips him. Maybe someone is following. Maybe there's a police officer watching him. Watching them, lying in wait.

What if he leads them straight to him? What if he sees him only for the police to step straight in, cuff him and take him away again without even being able to touch him?

It's unbearable.

Cheryl's not helping either. She's as bad as him, looking over her shoulder. Nate keeps telling them both to start acting like normal people going on holiday before they draw attention to themselves.

He grips the plastic arms on the plane chairs so hard he thinks they're going to break. Then what would happen? He'd be drawing attention to them…

His heart is pounding so hard he swears he's going to have a heart attack. He can't stop sweating even in the air conditioned cabin. He can't watch the film being shown, he can't look out the window. He can't concentrate on anything but trying not to shake apart into a thousand pieces.

Cheryl places a hand over his hand. They're both shaking so much the turbulence is a relief.

He doesn't think he's going to make it down the steps of the plane. He forces himself but he feels so unsteady. He's giving them away. The terror grips him as he sees a couple of local police.

He presses his head against the toilet cubicle and makes himself calm down as much as possible, actual calm he doesn't remember.

He leans against the wall, arms crossed, eyes down while Nate goes and gets their rental car.

"It's a bit of a drive." Nate says helping load the cases into the car.

He sits in the back and looks out the window at the landscape. The steep hills almost mountains, the trees… It's familiar and yet completely unknown. The sun is stronger, brighter, there's a faint smell that he doesn't recognise. It's not unpleasant, the opposite it's just strange.

It's an amazing place. The buildings. The colours. Alien to his eyes. He's never been somewhere like this before. The pictures he had seen when he'd been looking trying to see what it would be like. They don't compare to actually being here.

He licks at his lips. Runs his hands up his arms, skin itching from dryness caused by flying. He can barely swallow the water Nate offers him.

"Alright back there?" Cheryl asks after a while.

He nods he can't speak. He doesn't think there room in his throat to speak since his heart seems to be lodged there. Pulsing at different rates of stressed. He's not even sure he knows or it knows the rhythm it's meant to keep anymore.

"Nearly there."

"I can't." He can't. Everything is screaming at him he can't see he if he's only going to be taken away again.

"You can." Cheryl turns and looks at him. "You can."

He nods a little and looks out the window gazing out at the sea in the gaps between houses until they higher up and he can see it all the time. The boats. The people.

"Do I look alright?" He asks in a sudden rush of adrenaline. He looks at his crumpled t-shirt. His jeans. He fingers his hair. It's gone fluffy were he's been worrying it.

Cheryl laughs, not unkindly, just shock he supposes.

"Honestly love you could turn up looking like you've been dragged through a hedge backwards and I don't think our Bren would care."

He doesn't care if he wouldn't care. He cares. He wants to look good. He wants to look like he did when he last, no he doesn't. He doesn't want to look like he did in the hospital. He looked like… Awful. He can't believe that that's the image of him that Brendan's had…

His fingers tremble as he tries to get his hair to behave, he's only making it worse. He knows he is but he can't stop trying to make it right…

"This is it." Nate states pulling up to the gate and stepping out to open them.

He looks but he's not looking at the house, he's looking for him but he can't see him anywhere.

Maybe Cheryl lied. She couldn't be that cruel. No one could be.

He can't stop looking as they drive up to the house.

He thought he'd be waiting. Where is he? Tears of frustration pool in the rims of his eyes. He won't let the fall. He looks a state already he's not seeing him again crying.

He wipes at them.

Does he know he's here? Did Cheryl tell him he was coming?

He leans against the car for a moment to take a breath, shakes out his arms and get his legs under him.

He helps Nate with the bags. He doesn't know why he's putting it off but he can't help but want to delay it. The longer it takes the longer they've been apart, but he doesn't feel ready.

"Coming?" Cheryl offers her hand. He grips it like a life line as she leads him up the steps and inside the wooden door.

It's bright inside. Light. Cream walls, pale red almost peach tiles on the floor. Sparse furniture.

She leads him through to some sliding door that lead out to a garden with a pool.

He's there. Facing away. Leaning down on a wall looking down over it.

His heart thumps against his rib cage he's pretty sure that it's trying to escape.

"Go on love." Cheryl pushes her hand forward and he follows stepping out onto the stone surrounding the pool.

He steps carefully. Doesn't know why he should be careful but he is. He takes it a step at a time, waiting for his legs to just give up completely under the strain. He's less than a metre away, he stops. He sees Brendan take a deep breath, sees it in the rise of his shoulders. His head dips slightly before he stands up straight.

He looks down, takes a quaking breath. His bottom lip threatens his start quivering, he bites at it to stop it. His eyes burn.

Brendan turns and the breath is knocked out of him… He looks different. No moustache just a thick layer of stubble coating his cheeks, not quite a beard. Shoulders broader. Waist trimmer. Living, breathing… If he sees nothing else for the rest of his life he'll take it.

He steps forward and the same time as Brendan…

His fists ball tight at his sides. The urge to hit him for putting him through all this rises and falls away as he gets closer. Until he can feel the heat of his body. The electric running through his skin awoken by proximity. Being this close.

He wraps his arms around him at the same moment as Brendan closes his arms around him and pulls him into a tight hug. Hand to the back of his neck. He grips at his shirt so hard in his fists that he can feel his fingers going numb with the effort. He breathes in his scent. The feel of his arm. The safeness, steadiness of the embrace even though they're both shaking… Brendan kisses the side of his head, stubble raking his ear. He grips tighter, tries to get closer even knowing it's not possible. The warmth of his skin, of his breath against his cheek. The beating of his heart. All things he never thought he'd get again.

They start to sway slightly, rock a little, comfort spilling from it into his veins, filling the cracks, the voids. Soothing his nerves.

He loosens the grip a little, he needs to see his face, his eyes. He looks up and Brendan thumbs him cheek softly. Gaze running across his face as the tip of his thumb touches his bottom lip. The intensity of Brendan's eyes, boring holes in him, like he's staring into his soul has his breath shaking from his mouth. Brendan leans in slowly, eyes not leaving his… The first touch of their lips is shocking, raw, has him desperate to run, this. Them. Brendan. Nothing feels as powerful, like he could do anything, be anything with him by his side. It rushes him, pushes him, the hunger the utter desire that flows through his body and his arching into Brendan as he slides his hand up to the back of his neck, pulling him in deeper. Nothing compares, nothing is as right... The feel, soft, lush, the brush of stubble burns, stings as the kiss intensifies into a battle, a hot, desperate mash of tongue, lips and need. Want. Denied for so long.

Brendan breaks it fast leaving him whirling, pulls him closer and holds him to his chest with a hand gripping his thin t-shirt so hard he can feel his nails in his skin and drops his mouth onto his collar bone and inhales deeply.

He lets himself sink into the embrace. Quieter, still desperate but steadier, manageable.

Brendan's murmuring something, barely more than his lip moving against the fabric but the stubble gives the movement away. He knows it's not words, at least not words he's meant to hear. He lays a kiss there then squeezes him so tight it's painful.


End file.
